No Angel

by Helen Keeble

  Both guys paused midstep. Debbie gaped at me. “Not again,” she said. “Two in one night? What the heck did Ms. Oleander put in that punch?” Her expression turned suspicious. “Wait . . . you’re playing a joke on me. Oh, very funny, Raffi. Get up.”

  “I’m dead serious.” I surreptitiously leaned to one side, trying to peer past Debbie. Catboy and Hooves were exchanging glances with each other, eyebrows raised. “Seeing you with another guy made me realize. You’re the only one for me.”

  “Oh, so that’s how it is, huh?” Debbie’s expression of deep disgust was not exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for. “You weren’t interested in me at all before. But now you think I’m easy, so you’ve decided to try your luck? And here I was thinking you were a nice guy.” She jerked her hand away from me. “Well, you can go screw yourself, Rafael Angelos. Because I’m certainly not going to.”

  “Wait—” I was talking to her back. She flipped me off as she stalked away into the crowd. A couple of her friends converged on her, obviously scenting fresh gossip. From Debbie’s gestures, my reputation was about to be thoroughly trashed.

  More important, the two “Winchester” guys had drifted off with amused expressions. I didn’t dare try to track them too closely, in case they got suspicious again. Heart hammering against my rib cage, I hurried off in search of Michaela.

  “Get your filthy—” Michaela cut off as she saw who had touched her elbow. “Oh, it’s you. Get your filthy hands off of me,” she added seemingly as an afterthought. Then she frowned, peering more intently at my face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, babe,” I said loudly, draping my arm over her shoulders despite the fact that this was about as wise as embracing a porcupine. “Listen, have any of the guys here been bothering you?” I stared into her eyes, willing her to understand. “Because there are a few here that I don’t like much. I don’t understand how their sort got in.”

  From the way Michaela went rigid, she’d gotten my hint. She leaned against me, nuzzling my neck. “Are you sure?” she whispered in my ear, her lips barely moving. “Manifesting, not possessing?” I nodded slightly, and she hissed under her breath. She broke free of me, pacing a few steps like a caged tigress. “But that’s impossible—” She stopped dead, staring at her feet. Then, “Come on,” she said, seizing my hand. “I have to go look at something.”

  “What?” I said as she dragged me through the crowd.

  “The bigger picture.”

  There was a little spiral staircase in an alcove at the front of the hall, leading to a small pulpit halfway up the wall. A couple of girls were already up there, leaning over the edge to watch the dancing, but Michaela managed to dislodge them at ten feet just with the force of her glare. She waited impatiently for them to file out of the opening, then dashed up the stairs two at a time. I was out of breath by the time I caught up with her. “Good view,” I said, looking down at the party. From this vantage point, we could see the whole hall. I picked Horny out of the crowd, though Catboy and Hooves were impossible to spot. “There’s one of the guys I met earlier.”

  Michaela shook her head. She wasn’t looking at the dancers at all, but rather at the floor. From this height, it became apparent that what at first glance appeared to be a random jumble of tiles was in fact a deliberate mosaic, all done in the same shade of white, but with some tiles polished to mirror-brightness. They stood out against the duller tiles, reflecting the candlelight in looping, shining lines. . . .

  “Rafael, we have to get everyone out of here. Right now.” Her fingers practically crushed my arm. “It’s a pentagram. The whole hall is a pentagram!”

  Michaela had forgotten about demonic senses too. Horny’s head jerked up as if he’d heard a gunshot. He turned to stare directly at us.

  As did every other guy in the room.

  Including Billy-Bob.

  Chapter 33

  His eyes still locked with mine, Billy-Bob bent his head over Faith’s, resting his cheek on her shining hair. She was tucked up against his chest, her back to us, as they swayed in a slow dance. Over the top of her head, he smiled at me.

  He knew. He knew that we knew. And he didn’t care.

  Never breaking our eye contact, Billy-Bob trailed his hands down Faith’s spine to rest on her hips, drawing her even closer against him. He spun her on the spot, one of his hands floating outward in a flourish that encompassed the rest of the hall. All through the room, as if Billy-Bob’s smile had been some sort of signal, demons were turning back to their partners. Demonic hands on innocent backs, demonic lips whispering temptation into unsuspecting ears, demonic kisses on laughing mouths . . .

  Completing his spin, Billy-Bob lifted his eyebrows at me in mocking challenge. The message was clear. Well? What do you think you can do to stop us?

  I spread my wings, taking care to make sure they stayed invisibly in Heaven. My feathers burned so fiercely that the darkness around them boiled and seethed, but Billy-Bob just looked amused. At my side, Michaela made a low, distressed sound, the points of her drawn daggers twitching from target to target in an agony of indecision. Even if we took out Billy-Bob, we’d still be outnumbered ten to one—and the demons had hostages.

  “Michaela?” I said under my breath. My fingers hovered over Krystal’s pentagram charm. “Scream.”

  I grabbed the charm, whirled, and set fire to the nearest draperies.

  Michaela had a good set of lungs. Her scream pierced the air like an arrow. Dancers stumbled in sudden gracelessness, every head turning in our direction.

  “Fire!” someone yelled. “FIRE!”

  A mass shriek erupted from the crowd. The hall exploded in a mad stampede for the nearest exit. Not even Ms. Hellebore could hold back the tide. Some of the demon boys were swept along like twigs in a torrent, only to hit the edge of the mosaic as if it was a solid brick wall. I caught a glimpse of Debbie frantically tugging at Horny, trying to haul him over the invisible barrier. He fought free of her, retreating back into the room, and she fled without him.

  “Come on!” Michaela was already scrambling over the edge of the balcony. I grabbed her around the waist, manifesting my wings just in the nick of time to stop us from splatting headfirst on the marble. We still hit the ground hard enough to knock all the breath out of me. For a second, all I could do was clutch at my bandage, white-hot pain stabbing through my chest.

  “Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio!” Michaela’s angel hurtled like a flaming meteor down from Heaven as Michaela leaped for Billy-Bob. He jumped out of the way of her daggers, flinging Faith aside—

  Straight into my waiting arms.

  I folded my wings around her. Beyond our embrace, all was chaos—Michaela’s knives whirling, her angel battering against Billy-Bob’s darkness like a moth against a windowpane, inhuman shrieks of rage and shouted prayers—but here, just for a moment, we stood in the eye of the storm, encircled by white light.

  “It’s us,” I said, so close to Faith that we breathed the same breath. Our bodies pressed against each other, our hearts beating as one. My wings burned like the sun itself. “It’s always been us. Faith, we have to save everyone. We have to close the Hellgate.”

  My lips touched hers.

  I don’t know what I’d been expecting—a blast of heavenly fire, some sort of shock wave, demons shrieking “Noooo!” as they were sucked into a closing vortex—but it certainly wasn’t a knee in the groin.

  I collapsed into a ball of pain, the light winking out as my wings folded like the rest of me. “I’m sorry, Raffi, I’m sorry!” Faith babbled even as she shoved me away. “But I can’t do it. I can’t send my mother to Hell. I can’t!”

  “Faith, no!” I wheezed through the agony, trying to catch her sleeve as she turned back to Billy-Bob, who was effortlessly forcing Michaela’s daggers away from his throat. “He’s the Prince, Faith!”

  Faith let out a strange sound, half sob, half laugh. “I know he is. I deliberately stepped on his tail. He said ow.�
��

  Even Billy-Bob looked rather nonplussed at that. Tossing Michaela to one side like a beanbag—she flew ten feet and hit the ground rolling, coming up at my side with broken wings and daggers crossed—he raised one red eyebrow at Faith. “You know what I am, and yet you come willingly?”

  “Yes.” She looked around at Michaela and myself, tears streaking her face. “I’m sorry, I can’t close the Hellgate, I can’t choose light with a willing heart.” She spread her wings. Storm-cloud patterns chased across her feathers, light and dark locked in conflict. “I love my mother. No matter what, I can’t condemn her to eternal torment.”

  “She’s a demon!” Michaela guarded my back, her daggers and my light holding the demon boys at bay. “She’s betrayed you!”

  “I know. But this is my decision, Michaela. I’ll take the consequences.” Faith took a deep breath, raising her chin to meet Billy-Bob’s curious eyes. “I’ll bind myself to you. And then Michaela and Raffi will kill me.”

  “What?” Michaela nearly dropped her daggers in shock. Above her in Heaven, her angel seethed with furious light. “No!”

  “Promise me you’ll do it, Michaela!” Faith pleaded, opening her hands in supplication. “If you destroy my body with holy fire, the Prince has to go back to Hell. I may not be able to close the Hellgate, but I can make sure I’m the only one to suffer for it.”

  “Damn it, Faith, for once in your life open your eyes!” I yelled at her, struggling to my feet. I spread my wings, indicating the watching demons. “The Prince isn’t the only demon who came through the Hellgate! This is not all about you!”

  Faith blinked, looking around at the ring of grinning demon boys as if noticing them for the first time. She went pale. “No,” she stammered. “My mother—she isn’t evil. She wouldn’t let demons possess her students.”

  “Of course I would.” My heart froze in my chest as the Headmistress emerged from the back of the hall, Krystal struggling in her iron grip. The rest of the chapel was deserted now, though shouts drifted in from the open doors as the teachers tried to get the panicking students back under control. Bits of burning silk whirled over our heads as the fire spread. “I would advertise it as a unique feature of this school, if it would not cause undue comment. Why do you think we have a Masked Ball at all? Every year, the best and most promising girls receive the great gift of a demon companion. Not only do the girls gain powerful allies to help them on the path to wealth and power, they are also liberated from foolish hindrances like ‘compassion’ and ‘kindness’. I would be remiss in my duty of care if I didn’t give my students the opportunity.”

  The Prince caught Faith’s wrist as she tried to back away. “Not so fast, pretty little nephil. I haven’t yet decided which of the bodies on offer I prefer. It could still be you.” His tail flicked lazily from side to side as he cast the Headmistress a pleased glance. “So kind of you to have offered a selection.”

  The Headmistress’s face was an impassive mask in the flickering firelight. “Thank you, Prince Beelzebub.”

  “Beelzebub,” Michaela whispered in horror-struck tones. “Lord of the Flies. Prince of Pride. Second only to Satan Himself.”

  “My reputation precedes me!” Beelzebub brightened as if this had made his whole day.

  “Fly, Raf!” Krystal yelled, through her coughs. The hall was rapidly filling with smoke. Her face was red from the heat. “Get out of here!”

  “I’m not leaving you!” I could possibly grab Michaela and fly into Heaven, but there was no way I could get to Krystal before the Headmistress ripped her apart. My fear for my friends fueled my own fire, my halo brightening until the closest demons had to take a step back. If I could just get to Faith, if she would join her light to mine this time—

  “You think you have even the slightest chance of getting anywhere near me?” Beelzebub said as if reading my mind. “Me? A Prince of Hell?” He laughed. “You were right,” he said to the Headmistress. “His vanity is indeed delicious. Perhaps I will possess him rather than your daughter.”

  “No!” Faith twisted to grab Beelzebub’s sleeve. “I’ll join with you, I will, if you swear on your name you won’t hurt my friends!”

  “Faith!” Michaela’s desperate eyes met mine. “Rafael, I beg you, save her.”

  “Yes, Mr. Angelos.” The Headmistress’s emotionless stare bored into me. “If you are willing to sacrifice yourself, you can save her. You can save them all.”

  I froze.

  All those tearstained letters, from Lydie and the others who suffered under the demons’ rule. All those photos in the corridor outside the Headmistress’s office, all those powerful women with hungry eyes. Hundreds of Balls. Hundreds of girls unwittingly corrupted with evil. Going out into the world and making it a little darker, a little crueler, a little more like this school . . .

  And I knew what I had to do.

  “Michaela!” I whirled on her. “Stab me!”

  Michaela, understandably, stared at me as if I’d gone insane.

  “Self-sacrifice,” I said as fast as I could, grabbing Michaela’s shoulders. Above her, the angel stretched its wings wide, burning like a thousand suns going supernova at once. It knew what I wanted, it knew I was choosing with open eyes, it was ready to use me as its channel to the mortal world. . . . “Like Gabriel’s original plan, but me rather than Faith. I’m willing, I choose this, so for the love of Heaven, stab me!”

  “NO!” shouted Beelzebub. The demon boys lunged forward.

  Too late.

  I didn’t even feel Michaela’s daggers enter my chest. The instant the tips pierced my skin, the angel’s power burst into me. No human flesh could have withstood that supernatural heat for so much as a heartbeat. It seared even my nephil body, setting every one of my feathers alight with agony, but I forced my wings open before the fire consumed them. All three girls were knocked flat by the blast of light. The demonic darkness evaporated like mist at sunrise. Beelzebub and the demon boys twisted for a second, agonized shadows caught in the eye-searing whiteness—then they too went out like blown candles. Only the Headmistress was left, a lone dark shape in a world of white. Her eyes locked with mine.

  For the briefest instant, she smiled.

  Then, like a puppet with cut strings, she collapsed.

  “Mother!” Faith cried out as my light died away. She struggled up and ran to her. “No, no, please . . . Mother!”

  “Raf?” Krystal crawled over to me. “Are you alive?”

  “Yeah,” I managed to say on the second attempt. I felt like a spent match. Flat on my back, I stared up at the flames flickering across banners overhead and just wanted to go to sleep. “I think I closed—”

  Before I could finish the sentence, something curled around my ankle, and yanked me down into Hell.

  Chapter 34

  Darkness and laughter.

  I was sinking, sinking into the Abyss. Blind. Wings burned to nothing with that last shock wave of power. Angelic eyes, all gone. Just human. Falling into nothing.

  Well done, Mr. Angelos. Well done indeed. The Headmistress coiled around me. I felt rather than heard her voice, as if she spoke directly into my bones. Her myriad eyes swam through the darkness, filled with a pale, cold light. Look up, Mr. Angelos.

  High above, light sparkled, like the surface of the sea seen from underwater. Just a firefly glimmer now, as she carried me into the depths.

  The mortal world, Mr. Angelos. The Headmistress shifted me in her tentacles, turning me away from that glimpse of warmth and light. Bright again, our darkness dispelled. The world is like a pane of glass between Heaven and Hell, you see. Humans can polish it clean with virtue or smudge it with sin. We can only approach when so much cruelty and selfishness has accumulated that it blocks out the light from above. Many, many years carefully cultivating a grime of petty sins, Mr. Angelos, and you wipe it all away with one act of sacrifice. We are banished, thoroughly banished, for centuries to come. Her satisfaction vibrated through my flesh. I would write a sp
ecial note of commendation on your end-of-year report, if you were going to have one.

  “It really was all your plan. All along, you were trying to close the Hellgate.” Cold was spreading through my chest. I couldn’t feel my limbs anymore. “Why?”

  You find merely attending school a torment? Try a thousand years of running one, Mr. Angelos. Centuries of squabbling, self-obsessed teenagers. Centuries of pretending interest in your numbingly banal existences, each and every one of you just like the next, all convinced of your own uniqueness. And that, Mr. Angelos, that is not even touching upon the horror of the paperwork. A shudder ran through her titanic form at the mere thought. I have been working to escape that place and return home for a very, very long time.

  “You could . . . could have just left.”

  Hellgates do not spontaneously appear, Mr. Angelos. They are grown. Few of my kind have the patience and skill for it. I am the very best. A thousand years of quietly influencing uncounted souls, turning a place of light into a place of darkness . . . no. I would never have been allowed to simply resign. The only way I would be permitted to leave was if there was no longer any reason for me to be here. So I set in motion a plan to undo all my own work.

  “Me and Faith,” I whispered.

  Yes, Mr. Angelos. I knew it would take heavenly light to cut through my dark barrier, but I could hardly enlist the help of the angels. Nephilim were the answer. Two nephil could between them produce enough light to dispel the Hellgate. And I had an excuse to create at least one. Beelzebub has long desired to walk the earth, and no mere human could ever contain a Prince of Hell’s power. . . . When I offered to bear a nephil for him to possess, he jumped at the chance. We demons rarely procreate, Mr. Angelos. Gestation is a remarkably tedious process.

  “But you needed two . . .” Even as I spoke, the answer came to me. “My mother. You knew my mother. You told me so, the very first day of school.”